Test drive: Mercedes-Benz ML350

An exclusive drive through Europe in the all-new smarter and faster SUV

An exclusive drive through Europe in the smarter and faster all-new SUV.

A few years ago, my college roommate and I watched a documentary on marathon runners (I don’t know why; we were probably wasted). The show explained that at some point, runners usually hit something called “the wall”, where regardless of how much they push, they can't overcome the devastating exhaustion of moving forward. After the show, my roommate, a philosophy major (which means that he’s probably serving Big Macs these days), said “that’s a great metaphor for life. We all hit the wall at some point or the other, don’t we?” I rolled my eyes and grunted in response.

But the fry-making bastard was right. Like a marathon runner, I’d hit a wall of my own, and needed to find a way to bring it down. Some men meditate, some pray, some fight, some write and some run away. But me, I like to drive. So I popped over to the Mercedes HQ in Stuttgart, Germany, to try out the all-new Mercedes-Benz ML350 on a drive across Europe – in the hope that it would be just what the doctor ordered.

The old M-Class was a great car – it shared a platform with the larger GL and was surprisingly good off-road. It wasn’t as sharp to drive as the BMW X5, but it was much more relaxing to be in. And it looked strong and sturdy as well. The new avatar isn’t as well-cut as the outgoing model, and it didn’t strike me as particularly masculine – the lines are softer, there are more curves and its presence is more elegant than powerful and brutal. But after you get over the initial jolt, you realize it actually looks quite good. It’s got a graceful and more classy vibe about it this time around.

The interior is like almost every other Mercedes – and that’s a good thing. The COMAND multimedia system with its large LCD screen dominates the dashboard and there are a wide range of controls on the steering wheel. Almost immediately, I paired my phone, connected my iPod via the port in the glove compartment, set the GPS and started. I was angry and frustrated – I just wanted to drive – so as soon I got on the highway, I gunned it. The 3.5-litre V6 effortlessly moved the car forward and I was soon barrelling along at over 210 kph. Thank heavens for unrestricted Autobahns. Sadly, Switzerland came up much too quickly and at the border, I was stopped for additional checks. The cops grilled me for the better part of 30 minutes, and eventually let me go after I had parted with 160 of my euros (for some shitty sticker, it turned out). It really didn’t help my anger – I was livid.

I drove along, silently fuming, and realized that after 100 km, the road trip hadn’t done much to improve my mood. But after a few hours of ranting (to nobody in particular) and blaming the Swiss for everything from global warming to Sherlyn Chopra’s Playboy shoot (why didn’t they stop her?), I cooled down a bit. That’s the best part of driving alone: you can blow off steam by shouting at random things without offending, upsetting or disturbing anyone. At this point, I was so exhausted from being so wrathful all morning that I set the car’s adaptive cruise control to 60 kph and decided to just cruise for the rest of the day.

And actually, that made things better. I think more often than not, slowing down can be the answer to everything. You process information more objectively, stop dwelling on problems and start thinking of solutions and realize that sometimes, the journey matters more than the destination.

With every mile, my anger subsided and I started to enjoy the scenery more. The European countryside was gorgeous: there were long, winding roads surrounded by trees, beautiful snowcapped mountains, lakes bluer than Cameron Diaz’s eyes and picturesque little villages – or they would be if you photoshopped the McDonald’s and Burger Kings out. Pretty soon, I didn’t even remember what I was angry about. I have to say, the ML was a champ through all this. Not once did it do anything to annoy or infuriate me.

As a car, it’s quiet, refined and really luxurious. Its soft suspension makes it roll in the corners, but the payoff lies in its ride quality. Imagine running your hand lightly over Emma Stone’s perfectly crafted bottom – that’s how smooth the ML is. It’s like you’re being carried on a cushion of air and puppy fur. And man, it’s quiet in there. Arnab Goswami could be shouting outside your window and you’d barely hear a whisper.

The highest praise for the ML during my trip came from a bunch of Italians. I was stopped (as usual) at the border and the guard very hurriedly asked me about seventy-billion questions in Italian. Now my knowledge of the language comes from Russell Peter’s comedy routines, so essentially I knew how to sign “what the fuck”, which I did several times every few seconds. It didn’t help. A few more guards came up while the man who stopped me searched frantically for the only English-speaking cop at the checkpost (who, when he came, looked so dishevelled that he was either sleeping or in the middle of a particularly vigorous lovemaking session before being disturbed; either way, he was unlikely to be on my side). As we waited, a few of the guards started pointing at the car and asked me questions. In a stroke of brilliance, I whipped out my phone and used Google Translate to initiate a conversation with the coppers. They were fascinated by the new ML – they asked about its engine, its power (which Translate displayed as “might of horses”) and were very complimentary of its looks. Praise from an Italian about styling – now that’s something.

What I loved most about the ML350 was that it did everything perfectly, and quietly. Many cars are fun to drive, but their quirks – from poor fuel efficiency to large turning circles to bad driving positions – make them rubbish for long trips. The ML was like a good butler – there when you needed it, but otherwise working steadily and silently in the background. It was fast, luxurious, well-balanced, comfortable and extremely economical. I wouldn’t have had a better companion than the Merc if a sex-crazed Katrina Kaif was sitting next to me.

The allure of the open road is undeniable and timeless – almost therapeutic. There is a certain richness in experiencing the land and a wealth of things to discover, both about the world and yourself when you travel by road. The best thing about such a trip is its ability to remind you what a tiny part of the world you are, its ability to put things in perspective. Sometimes, it’s all you need to clear your mind. And there are few cars as good for the job as the new Mercedes-Benz ML.